Playing With Fire
by DarkArts27
Summary: He had wanted, no, needed her for years now, and he was down to his last shred of control. He'd always had his control, but this deadly game she was playing had ripped it away, layer by layer. BB oneshot.


**A/N: Hmm, well I'm not quite sure where this came from, but here it is anyway. A massive thank you to Dana (DNAisUnique), who was kind enough to read over this for me and help me out where needed :) Title taken from the song of the same name by Emery. **

**Disclaimer: I think we all know the drill, not mine, unfortunately.**

* * *

It had been two weeks. Fourteen days. Three-hundred and thirty-six hours since she had started her evil game. He knew she was doing it just to spite him. Just to rub in his face what she knew he was too cautious to go after. He knew it was all a game to her. She was waiting for him to pass go, to collect and set off into that fine real estate market she had so astutely set up for him. There was only one property he was after, the one too far out of his price range, yet so perfect in every aspect. Consisting of acres of pale alabaster, walls constructed from the strongest of steel, and a perfect view of that profound, gray ocean that lurked ominously before him. And she knew it was killing him. Every second of every day, it was slowly eating away at him, and she couldn't have cared less.

His footfalls echoed throughout the vast walls of the lab as he strode toward her office, intent on finishing the last of his paperwork. Seeing her form through the open blinds and the glass walls, he walked in, keen to see if she was still keeping up this game of hers. Either way, she had no chance of winning. He was the soldier. Soldiers always won these battles. Always. He rounded the corner and saw her, purple satin blouse hugging her curves, black slacks encasing the sculpted musculature of her thighs and calves. _Oh shit_. Those feeble little buttons that had 'accidentally' come undone at the top of that blouse had to be enough for someone to file a sexual harassment suit. The way that the black lace of her bra was protruding ever-so-slightly, and the way he could see that milky white skin that he could just -

"Booth," her voice ripped him from his reverie, and he struggled to swallow the lump that had materialised in his throat.

"Bones," he choked out, plastering a charm smile on his face, hoping she wouldn't notice the strain he was placing on himself at that moment.

Her eyes followed his line of sight, and a mischievous smile made its way across her face.

"Like what you see, Booth?" she questioned, her voice suddenly husky and low, sending a shiver up his spine.

_Shit! Oh shit, shit, shit!!!_ He'd been caught. He knew he was gone from the second he walked in there, but she knew she had him now. She had him wrapped around that pretty little finger of hers, and he was helpless to pry himself off. Perhaps the soldier would be taught a thing or two about discipline after all.

"Oh, I...ah," he averted his gaze as quickly as he could, but the damage had already been done. His eyes had gone on an unwelcomed reconnaissance, and she'd probably eat him alive for it.

"I didn't say you had to stop, did I?" Her head lowered just an inch, and she looked up at him seductively. He was a goner.

His mouth gaped open for a second in a frantic search for something to fill the pregnant silence that had engulfed the room. He knew he looked like a fish, but the words just wouldn't come. The blood had missed his brain altogether, and had tinged his cheeks pink before heading south.

Before he knew what was happening, she was standing mere inches away from him, that touchable skin of hers only a hairs breadth away.

"Is everything okay, Booth? You seem a little tense," her voice came out innocent and breathy, and he could feel a warm puff of air against his neck.

Her hand reached up to caress his bicep, fingers running over every inch possible before gripping gently. His throat constricted at would normally be deemed innocent contact, and he struggled to keep his eyes forward. _When in doubt look straight ahead. Don't give her the satisfaction of not being able to keep your eyes off her_.

Hand still on his upper arm, she circled around him, pausing behind and sliding both hands up to his shoulders.

"Booth, you really need to relax a little. You're so tense," she breathed against the nape of his neck as her 'magic knuckles' began to rub and manipulate the knots they found there.

"Oh, you have no idea," he breathed heavily, hoping, praying, that she wouldn't sense the desperation that laced his voice.

He had wanted, no, _needed_ her for years now, and he was down to his last shred of control. He'd always had his control, but this deadly game she was playing had ripped it away, layer by layer. Just like he wanted to rip away each ridiculous item of clothing she was wearing. From those black, leather boots that rose just above her medial malleolus, to that lacy black bra that she'd worn just for him. All of it. He wanted it gone, and he'd take her, right there on the desk if need be. Sometimes he cursed his self control.

Her fingers continued to work magic on the tense muscles, and he found himself slowly relaxing into her touch, eyelids fluttering closed at the sensations produced.

"Perhaps you should relinquish that control of yours once in a while, Booth." The hair on the back of his neck stood abruptly as he felt her lips move over his skin as she spoke.

Oh, he'd show her.

"You want me to lose control, Bones?" his back straightened as he spoke. He'd had enough. "You want me to give up the one thing that stops me from taking you right here in this office every fucking day, huh? You want me to relax?"

During the course of his speech he'd turned toward her, mouth only a hairs breadth from her ear as he whispered his confession to her, not able to notice the shocked look plastered across her face.

"It's a bit hard when you're around here, Bones. It's a bit hard to maintain any fucking composure when you're strolling around here with your–"

His sentence was cut short as she crushed her lips to his, one hand gripping his upper arm, the other at the nape of his neck, desperately pulling him towards her. His lips devoured hers as he backed her up against the wall, hands keeping her flush against him in the meantime.

He pulled back suddenly, smiling slightly when she absentmindedly lent forward in search of his lips.

"I'll lose control, Bones. For you I will," he whispered against the smooth column of her neck as his lips nipped and sucked at the soft, silky smooth skin.

He made his way back to her lips, kissing her senseless until both pulled back for air.

"You see what I have to stop myself doing each and every day, Bones?" he questioned, his mouth curving into a smirk as his hand traced along her jaw.

"I'm glad I wasn't the only one," she replied, breaths still ragged as a cheeky grin made its way onto her face.

"Oh, you'll be the death of me, Temperance," he chuckled as his lips once again sought out her own.

One moment of temptation had thrown his four year record to hell, and he couldn't have cared less. The soldier had lost that battle, but the soldier in him had left years ago.

* * *

**A/N: Hope it wasn't too bad. Reviews, whether positive or constructive, are greatly appreciated. Thanks.**


End file.
